


Stroke of Midnight

by Noelleian



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Bondage, First Time, Fluff, Gratuitous Smut, Humor, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutual Pining, PWP, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: Three wingmen, a rave, and a disgruntled man resigned to his fate. With friends like these, who needs enemies?





	Stroke of Midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moreena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/gifts).



> Hey hey, happy 4th of July! This fic is dedicated to my wonderful and amazing friend, Moreena. Love you so much, sweetie, and I hope this brings you a little happiness during your time of grief. <3
> 
> I had misgivings about this fic as I'm having a very difficult time with my cognitive issues right now so I hope it's not as messy and disorganized as I think it is. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes (though I probably didn't haha) and hopefully you guys like it.
> 
> Updates will be next, including The Pact, It Could Only Be You, and A Pirate's Trade.

The din of techno music made Trowa’s ears ache and the pulse behind his temples throb with each vibration coming from the two massive subwoofers on the floor of either side of the warehouse’s main floor. There was a pre-migraine headache pulling on the edges of his vision and the flashing blue and red lights made him feel queasy and ornery.

In what plane of existence were ten foot tall speakers the least bit necessary anyway?

He’d been all but dragged forcibly to this rave, though he was sure Duo, Wufei, and Heero would have been more than happy to toss a few potato sacks over his head and stuff him in the trunk like they were mafia bosses getting rid of a snitch. Clubs just weren’t Trowa’s style and they damned well knew that. They were virtual meat markets where every depravity known to man roamed freely. The universally accepted epicenter of bad music, illicit drug use, and casual hookups between people who didn’t even know each other’s names and didn’t care enough to ask.

Apparently he’d underestimated how much he'd been lamenting his non-relationship relationship with Quatre lately. At least according to Wufei who read him the riot act in the car with his body twisted halfway around the passenger seat and his hand against his forehead like a private saluting his general while he explained how he’d ‘had it up to here’ with Trowa’s bellyaching.

He knew why he’d been brought to this techno Hell. They were trying to get him laid, if for no other reason than they hoped he would stop creeping them out with his lovesick schoolgirl routine.

On the ride out, Duo informed him that there were private rooms at the back of the building that were rented out by the hour and that they’d shelled out enough to reserve a room until midnight. Not wanting to get into an argument, Trowa pressed his lips together and nodded dutifully, though his mind was an endless mantra of _‘Nope. Never gonna happen. Nope.’_

Now it was crunch time and when Duo and Wufei each grabbed one of his arms, panic set in as his ass begin to slide off the cheap plastic lawn chair. He frantically tried to reclaim his limbs, his head already swinging back and forth in protest.

“Don’t be a pussy, Tro. We’re tryna help you,” Duo shouted over the racket. “We found you a real cutie and he’s waitin’ in the back for ya.”

“Duo, I don’t -”

“And he’s blond,” Wufei hollered, leaning closer so Trowa could hear him better. “Got ‘your type’ written all over him.”

 _My ‘type’ is one person and I’m damned sure the twink you’re trying to get me to shag is not that person,_ he thought bitterly. His stomach turned over when he felt a push at his back and glared over his shoulder. “I thought you, of all people, would be on my side.”

Heero’s expression was nonplussed. “I’m on one side and one side only. Mine. Personally, I wanted to throw you off the nearest cliff, but...Duo wouldn’t let me do that and Quatre would be crushed if I did so I settled for the next best thing.”

“I hate all of you,” Trowa groaned miserably as he was pulled through the crowd towards the back. “I’m not going to have sex with this guy. You’re wasting your time and money, I hope you know that.”

“You say that now,” Duo told him. “But wait until you see him.”

He rolled his eyes, but said nothing, letting his soon-to-be _ex_ friends manhandle him down a long narrow hallway. He was just petulant enough to drag his feet and when Wufei let out an aggravated growl, he smiled with vindictive glee.

Breaking away and making a run for it was a tempting thought, but Duo was faster than he was and strong enough to hold him until the other two caught up. He’d had a better chance while he was still out on the main floor. The suffocatingly narrow hallway packed with necking couples on both sides were obstacles that would only slow him down.

At least the music wasn’t so loud back here.

He glanced up as they made a sharp right and started down another hallway. This part of the building didn’t have the open ceiling like the general area did. As they passed beneath a vent, he wondered if he’d be able to make his escape through the ceiling ducts.

“Almost there,” Duo promised, voice quieter now that they didn’t have to shout to be heard.

“Guys, I’m really not comfortable with this.”

“Lighten up and live a little, Barton,” Wufei barked over his shoulder. “You really want to spend the rest of your life knitting booties for your cats on Friday nights?”

 _Better than having one night stands with strangers in filthy rave rooms,_ he thought bitterly. _I swear to Christ, if I end up with the clap just by breathing the air back here, I’m going to hand all three of you over to Catherine for target practice._

They came to a stop at one of the doors near the end of the hall and his heart dropped into his stomach. Duo fished the room key out of his pocket and Trowa took a deep breath, wracking his brain to come up with a way to let this guy down gently. Hopefully they could just kill time talking and then emerge at midnight after rumpling up each other’s hair and clothing. No one would be the wiser.

Duo swung the door open, revealing a dimly lit room. Too dim for Trowa to actually see anything inside. “Guys, I -”

“You kids have fun,” Heero chirped, shoving him into the room hard enough to make him lose his balance.

With his cat-like grace, he quickly regained his equilibrium and spun on his heel just in time to see the door slam shut. “Hey! You guys better - aw, goddamn it.”

There were only two very low watt lights embedded in the ceiling, nowhere near bright enough to find his way around. He stood frozen in the middle of the room waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and jumped out of his skin a moment later when he heard a soft shift of movement behind his left shoulder.

_Oh, shit! He’s in here. And he’s not saying anything either. Is he naked already? Do I turn around? Say something? Fuck, what do I do?!_

Panicked, his sharpened senses picked up the faint sound of breathing, quick and shallow as if the guy was nervous, too. There was another shift of movement and he identified it as the slide of a limb across fabric. Across sheets. Sheets that were no doubt on a bed...a bed he was expected to…

_What did I ever do to deserve this?_

Heart pounding, he parted dry lips to address the the guy, but studiously kept his back turned away from him. “Uh...look, I don’t know how you got tangled up in this, but I really am sorry. I didn’t want to be here, but my idiot friends are - well, they're idiots and -”

He stopped when he heard a soft whimper followed by a louder, more urgent one and chanced a look behind him. He could make out the shape of a bed, probably double, or a queen, but what made his throat tighten was the sight of pale, slender legs spread wide open with what looked like ribbons tying his dainty ankles to the bed posts.

His eyes traveled upward, noting that the guy was desperately trying to press his knees together, but couldn’t due to the restraints. He slid his gaze higher to see the vague shape of his cock and balls, soft and resting against the crease of his groin and right thigh.

His body was lean and looked nearly hairless. His flat stomach rose and fell rapidly with anxious breaths and Trowa’s heart stopped as the gravity of the situation dropped on top of him like a ton of bricks. Judging by the body language, the accelerated respiration, and the attempt to hide his genitals, it appeared that this young man had been brought here against his will. And his own friends were the ones responsible. Did they honestly believe he would force himself on this person? Is that what they _wanted_  him to do? Shock rendered him numb, wiped every coherent thought from his mind until there was nothing but red. Blood lust, the kind he hadn't felt since the war, obscured his vision with turbulent oceans of red.

_I’m going to kill them. Slowly and very, very painfully._

Enraged, he stepped closer, but stopped short when he heard another whimper, audibly more fearful than the last two. He raised his hands in a placating gesture and did his best to cool his temper. This kid had been through enough already. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Are you - are you gagged?”

_“Mmph!”_

“Okay, don’t be scared, alright? I’m just going to take the gag off.” He approached more carefully this time, not wanting to appear threatening. “I’m going to touch you for just a second to get the gag off. That’s all I’m going to do, okay?”

“Nnn-hnn.”

It was too dark to see the guy’s face so he had to fumble around to find the gag, apologizing profusely when his pinky finger accidentally jabbed a nostril. Finally, he located the twisted rope of fabric around the young man’s mouth and worked it down over his chin. There was another crumpled up bundle inside his mouth which Trowa plucked out and dropped to the floor by his feet.

“Are you -”

_“Trowa?!”_

“Yes, I’m - wait...Quat? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me! Jesus, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“What the hell are you doing here? What the _hell_ is going _on?!”_

“Your guess is as good as mine, but now that I know it was you they were bringing, I think I can put two and two together.”

Trowa slapped his hand over his face. “Christ. They were trying to hook _us_ up.” He slumped down onto the side of the bed, relieved, but still a little unsettled. “I was ready to kill them.”

“I’m _still_ going to kill them,” Quatre seethed. “Those assholes drugged me.”

He pulled his hands away and looked at the blond whose feature were starting to become somewhat discernible. “They did?”

“They asked if I wanted to hang out. I was off for the night so I said sure. I think they spiked my tea. Next thing I know, I wake up...like _this_ and they’re standing over me grinning like hungry sharks, telling me they found ‘someone’ who would make me forget about…”

Trowa tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “Forget about what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

He almost let it go. It probably wasn’t wise to push the issue, but he already knew and the time for dancing around each other was over. “Forget about me?”

“What?”

“They thought it would make you forget about me?”

“What - _no!_ Trowa, no. I -”

“Quat, it’s okay. I know. They told me the same thing. About you, I mean. They said they were tired of me ‘moping’ over you. They told me I was being morose and depressing.” He shook his head and added, “Besides, since they locked us in here together, I’m pretty sure the cat’s out of the bag.”

Quatre sighed. “So we’ve been exposed.”

“Looks that way.”

“I’m still going to kill them.”

“I’ll get rid of the bodies,” he offered.

“God, I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life,” Quatre groaned. He tossed his head back and forth on the pillow cursing his misfortune and then cracked one eye open to peer at Trowa. “Could you untie me please? This isn’t exactly helping my dignity.”

He gave the blond’s nude body a once over, enjoying the delicious sight of slender limbs spread wide and dark velvet ribbon tied tight around creamy flesh. His cock responded to the visual stimulation, rising to full salute where it pressed painfully against the fly of his jeans.

“I dunno,” he murmured, shifting his body onto the bed. He settled his hips between Quatre’s splayed thighs and propped himself up with his hands as he stared down into the face of the only man he’d ever wanted. “I think I like you like this.”

“Pervert,” Quatre retorted without a trace of venom in his voice. “You just want me at your mercy so you can do whatever you want to me.”

His lips curled up in a sinister grin. “Like have my way with you?”

“You dare?” The blond put up a brief and obviously token struggle, yanking on his restraints before dropping back down onto the bed limp and panting. “Scoundrel! You’ll never take me alive!”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Trowa whispered, leaning down until his nose hovered a mere inch above Quatre’s. He pressed his hips forward into the damp heat between his captive’s legs and savored the humid puffs of breath ghosting over his face. “I’ll take you alive...I’ll take you just like this. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Quatre swung his head to the side in a melodramatic gesture of calamity. “I shan’t! I shall fight you all the way!”

“Please do,” Trowa insisted. “Makes it all the more exciting.” He dipped his head and latched his mouth to a soft patch of skin on Quatre’s neck, but paused a moment later to ask, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Trowa, if you stop now, I will never forgive you.”

He smiled. “Just checking. We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, okay? Just say ‘stop’ and I will.”

“Yeah yeah, fine. Now shut up and ravish me, you smarmy bastard. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?”

 _I think I have a pretty good idea,_ he thought and attached his mouth to the blond’s neck again. Quatre’s skin was slightly salty from sweat, but there was a sweetness beneath that seemed to be a natural component of his own unique chemistry. The scent of his shampoo and expensive cologne were heavenly, creating the perfect recipe of soothing familiarity and sensual allure.

He wanted to commit every smell, taste, and touch to memory. Hide them safely in a little box inside his heart where he could cherish them until the moment of his passing. Perhaps if he held on tight enough, he could carry them with him to whatever was waiting on the other side.

Quatre was beside himself, no doubt doing that very same thing. He moaned shamelessly, Trowa’s name on his lips like a litany of worship that hardened the brunette’s cock and made his balls draw up tight against his body. The exhilaration of their first time and the less than orthodox way they were consummating their love made him feel risqué, salacious, and maybe even a little unhinged.

_I can’t believe I’m doing this. Who am I? When did I become such a deviant?_

_“Nghhh,_ Trowa! Fuck, get those clothes off already. I need you.”

Then again, did it really matter?

Nope.

He sat up and wrestled out of his t-shirt and jeans, kicking them off along with his boxers and using his foot to push them over the side of the bed. Quatre moaned deliriously when he settled his hips between his thighs again, no longer impeded by the obstruction of fabric.

Trowa rubbed their groins together, precome slicking their cocks and easing the friction. Quatre keened into the stagnant air of the room which smelled of cheap orange air freshener and bucked his hips wildly to increase the pressure against his erection. He’d been teased for nearly thirty minutes now and he was starting to get impatient.

But Trowa had no intention of letting him off easy. He lifted his hips, high enough that the blond was unable to get the friction he needed, but soothed his frustration with wet kisses across his feverish face and neck while whispering promises of pleasure that he was fully prepared to deliver.

“Relax, baby. I’ll make you come. I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll forget your own name. But I want you to come on my cock, you understand? I want to feel you come from the inside.”

Breathless, Quatre nodded his head fervently. “Oh, god. Yeah, okay. I want that, too.”

“Give me a sec,” he said, hushing his love's protests with a kiss. “I just need to find something to use for lube.”

“On the table,” Quatre told him in an urgent voice. “They - Duo left a bottle of it on the table over there. I thought whoever was - ugh, forget it. It doesn’t matter now. Just hurry up and get it. I need you so bad.”

The reminder put Trowa's nerves on edge and momentarily dampened his lust. Making Quatre believe he was going to be attacked by a stranger had crossed an ethical line that was unacceptable as far as he was concerned. He hoped he'd be able to get their friends to understand that no matter how good their intentions were, there were boundaries that should never be violated.

It wasn't completely their fault. None of them had had what most people would consider a 'normal' childhood. Their crucial developmental years had been stunted in some ways and forced in others. As far as their training as soldiers went, teaching adequate social skills was at the bottom of the list of priorities.

"Trowa, stop thinking and get to lubing. We'll deal with them later. Right now, the only thing I want to do is you." 

 _Believe me, the feeling is mutual._ "You're right. I'm sorry."

He could see better now than when he’d first been locked in here, but he still had to feel around for the table. When his fingers made contact with the bottle of lubricant, he swiped it up and swiftly made his way back to the bed on legs that were a little unsteady from the arousal rushing through his blood.

He stopped at the foot of the bed and leaned down to nibble on a bound ankle. “Fuck, you are so beautiful and you look so hot all tied up like this. I confess this has always been one of my favorite fantasies and reality definitely lives up to the dream.” He nipped his way up the inside of the blond’s calf, laughing softly when the muscles twitched beneath his lips. “So sensitive you are.”

“Only for you, Trowa,” Quatre assured him, his voice reedy with need. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this way.”

“I better be,” he growled, kissing his way up the inside of Quatre’s trembling thigh. “If there was another man out there who could make you feel like this, I’d have to kill him.”

“God, I love this possessive side of you,” Quatre moaned. “It's such a turn-on.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby,” he murmured and sucked a wet kiss into the crease where the blond’s thigh connected with his groin. Quatre shivered and opened his legs wider, pushing his hips down against Trowa’s smirking face. “Was there something you needed?”

“Your mouth...there.”

“Where?”

“ _There!_ You know where!”

He nudged up a little higher and swiped the tip of his tongue across the bottom of the blond’s scrotum, loving the hitch in Quatre’s voice. “What, here?”

“ _Nnnnhhhhhh, yes!_ And also up and - and also...down...”

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you son of a - I want you to suck my cock and eat me out, okay?!”

His grin was decidedly self-satisfied. “You forgot to say ‘please’.”

Quatre glared down at him. “Pretty please with a cherry on top? There, I said it. Now, if you don’t put those lips where I need them, I’m going to wrap them around your neck and tie them into a bow.”

“I love it when you talk dirty, baby,” he chuckled and lowered his head to swipe his tongue over the base of the blond’s balls. They were just as lovely up close and personal as they were in his fantasies. Not too big, or too small, pert and flushed a fetching shade of pink. The skin of his scrotum was smooth, hairless, and tasted faintly of his favorite body wash.

_This is how I want to die. I want to breathe my last breath right here between this man’s legs. There’s no other place I’d rather be._

He sucked one testicle into his mouth and his eyelashes fluttered blissfully as he explored the shape and size of it, loving the way it fit perfectly on his tongue. Above him, Quatre whimpered and begged and praised Trowa in reverent incantations of _‘God, I love you’_ and  _‘Trowa, please don’t stop!’_

He gently released the first and pulled the other into his mouth to give it the same attention. Saliva pooled around his bottom lip, dripping over the sides and down his chin and he let it flow freely, a testament to his insatiable appetite.

He pulled away far enough for the ball in his mouth to slide free where it dropped down to rest beside the other. Moving up, he pushed the flat of his tongue into the space between the top of the blond’s scrotum and the base of his cock, licking a long swath up the middle of Quatre’s length until he reached the tip and then swirled his tongue around spongy head.

“Trowa,” Quatre panted, sounding delightfully wrecked. “Please don’t tease me. Please, I need it - need you to suck me.”

“I will, baby. But you can’t come, okay? Remember what I said.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“There is no ‘try’. You will not come, understood?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Like his balls, Quatre’s cock was aesthetically pleasing. Slender and streamlined with a slight taper at the tip. The head was flushed red with arousal and gleaming from the clear fluid that oozed from the slit. When Trowa took the length into his mouth, he couldn’t stop the moan that made his throat vibrate like a purring kitten. He slid his tongue up and down the shaft, committing the velvety soft skin and intricate weave of delicate veins to memory for future wank fodder. His own cock was a column of steel and it let its displeasure of being neglected known with angry throbs that prompted him to rub it against the mattress for relief.

Quatre himself was beyond words, twisting in his restraints while he garbled out unintelligible sounds, no longer caring if anyone outside the room could hear him. He pushed his hips up in a frantic rhythm and Trowa closely monitored his movements and vocalizations for any signs that he was about to climax.

“Oh, go - Trowa! Trowa, stop! Stop, stop, _stop!”_

On high alert, he quickly pulled away and watched Quatre’s body convulse. His cock twitched several times before eventually settling back down against his belly. Trowa waited patiently as he took deep, calming breaths to get himself back under control.

He didn’t come. He’d been right on the cusp though. Another second, or two and it would have been too late. He’d managed to stop Trowa in the nick of time.

Trowa beamed with pride. “Good boy! I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Quatre laughed breathlessly. “That was close. A little too close.”

“You need another minute?”

“No. No, I’m alright now. Keep going, please.”

He nodded and lowered his head again, sensing nothing but the truth. Quatre's empathy had expanded from a one-way street into a multi-lane highway, making his thoughts and emotions easily accessible from all directions. Trowa pushed his hands beneath the blond’s ass and used his thumbs to part the cheeks. He could just barely make out the tiny whorled opening in the darkness and leaned in, intent on his target.

Quatre tilted his pelvis up slightly, his breath shaky with anticipation. “I’ve always dreamed about this, but I never thought I would have the courage to ask for it.”

“Asking wouldn't have been necessary anyway,” Trowa assured him. “You have no idea how many times I beat myself off to fantasies of pleasuring you this way. The only time I ever came harder was when I was thinking about fucking you.”

“Then do it all because that’s what I want, too.”

Needing no more encouragement than that, he dove in without hesitation. His eyes rolled heavenward as his tongue explored the outer ridges and dipped inside, his senses overwhelmed by the scent, texture, and taste of his love.

When he pushed in the second time, Quatre pressed his hips down to deepen the penetration and loudly praised every deity he could think of, some of which Trowa had never even heard of before. “Oh, my g - oh, Trowa. I - I can’t...feels so _good_ …”

Trowa's cock pulsed hard, demanding more than frottage against a cheap, polyester mattress. He ignored it as long as he could, but when the torture became too much, he straightened up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Suddenly deprived of his pleasure, Quatre stared bug-eyed at him as if he’d just committed the world’s worst offense. “What are you doing?!”

Trowa fumbled for the lube and held it up with a shake. “Did you forget about the main event?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, no! No, I didn’t forget.”

Trowa gave him a lopsided grin. “You totally did.”

“Well, excuse me for being lost in the moment. You can blame yourself for being so good at that.” Quatre paused and Trowa could smell the next question from a mile away. “Have you done that before?”

He squeezed a generous dollop of lube onto his fingers and shook his head. “No. You’re my first.”

“For everything?”

He squirmed a little, but decided honesty was the best policy. “I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re asking, but the things I just did with you are both a first for me.”

“I see.”

“Are you mad?”

Quatre tipped his head back and laughed. “God no, Trowa! Of course not. I had a feeling you’d had sex before. Anyway, it’s not like we were together when you did it with...whoever you did it with.” He smiled when Trowa breathed a sigh of relief and added, “I’m just glad there are some things I could be your first for. And you are mine.”

“For everything?”

“For everything. I was as pure as the driven snow before tonight.”

“No regrets?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Mmm, so you're all mine then.”

“Only if you’re planning on doing something productive with those fingers, _eshiq.”_

Trowa rubbed said fingers together to spread the lube around and smiled wickedly. “I have every intention to, _dragă.”_

Anticipation and arousal streaked through his veins making his heart race and his hands tremble. He nudged his knees forward until they were wedged beneath Quatre’s hips, helping to prop his bottom up for easier access. With the slicked fingers of his right hand, he rubbed them over the puckered entrance of the blond’s ass to spread some of the lubrication around. “This might be a little uncomfortable at first.”

“It’s fine. I’ve done it to myself many times. Just slide them in. I can take it.”

 _Oh, fucking hell, you just had to say that, didn't you?_ His cock pulsed and precome welled in the slit before rolling down the contoured shape of the head. His imagination had never let him down before and it wasn’t about to start now. “I’m going to have to watch you do that one of these days,” he said in a deep rumble.

His middle finger breached the tight barrier, meeting with only a little resistance and they both groaned in unison as it disappeared inside in one long, smooth push. Quatre’s body tensed only briefly and then relaxed, his inner muscles hugging Trowa’s finger like a lover’s embrace.

“Voyeurism, Trowa? My, but you're a kinky one.”

Though he was trying to maintain a sense of casual composure, Trowa could hear the slight shift of pitch in his voice and knew it wouldn’t take much to unravel him. He pressed his index finger in with a little more force than he had the first one and relished Quatre’s sharp intake of breath. “I’ll bet you look so hot when you fuck yourself. Trying to push your fingers in as deep as a cock would go, but never quite getting there. Begging for something more and getting frustrated when that ‘more’ never comes.”

He pressed in deep and curled the tips of his fingers, searching for that place inside that would drive Quatre wild. “Only this time, when you beg for that ‘more’, I’ll be right there to give it to you,” he promised, grinning when the blond’s torso arched off the bed. “Ah, _there_  it is.”

“Oh, Trowa...oh my god! Do that again.”

He curled his fingers and rubbed them firmly against the slight bump, watching with hungry eyes as Quatre cried out in pleasure. He squirmed and twisted his wrists and ankles, frustrated by his limited ability to move. When Trowa eased up on the pressure, he flopped back onto the mattress with a bounce and gasped for air.

Trowa slid his other hand up the smooth length of his thigh and felt the energy vibrating beneath his skin. “I think you’re ready,” he said, pulling his fingers out and grabbing the lube again to slick his cock. The touch of his own hand was almost his undoing and he squeezed the base hard enough to hurt, pleading for just a little more patience.

He worked the lube over his length, heart pounding and respiration increasing. It forced the adrenaline through his blood stream with the speed of a bullet train. Every nerve felt like sparks of electricity, making the fine hairs on his arms, legs, and the back of his neck stand on end. This is was it. The moment he’d been fantasizing about since he was sixteen years old.

He just prayed his real self lived up to his fantasy self because if Quatre walked away from this unsatisfied, he’d never be able to look him in the eyes again.

“Trowa, now is not the time for an existential crisis! _Fuck_ me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, tossing the bottle of lube over his shoulder. He hooked his left arm around the blond’s thigh to hold it up and used his right hand to hold his cock steady. The tip, slick with lube and precome, quested between Quatre’s cheeks and rubbed against the rim of his opening before pushing through with only a little resistance.

Quatre had been more than ready and he groaned long and low as Trowa’s length slid smoothly in. His voice sounded like melted chocolate to Trowa’s ears, stoking the fire inside him and inciting an endless string of passionate accolades to roll off his tongue. This was all just too good to be true and he was tempted to pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some insanely vivid fever dream like the kind he'd had as a child after an acute case of appendicitis.

_No, this can't be a dream. There aren't any talking hippos this time._

He looped his other arm around Quatre’s left leg and braced himself on his hands, beginning a slow, careful rhythm. The ribbons around the blond’s ankles were barely long enough for the raised position of his feet so he wiggled his body lower to ease the tension and allow for unfettered movement.

“Oh fuck, Quat. You feel so good. So tight…”

“Trowa...Jesus, you’re so big! It’s - you're so fucking...huge.”

His heart skipped with dread and began to sink. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare! No. No, I just need to catch my breath. It’s overwhelming.”

He nodded and settled down onto his elbows, dipping his head to kiss the sweet lips of his love. Quatre kissed back like a true virgin, all enthusiasm and no finesse. Trowa took control, showing him how it was done with gentle nips of teeth and swipes of tongue. Thankfully Quatre was a fast learner, imitating Trowa with only a little awkwardness and gaining more confidence with each passing second.

While he was distracted, Trowa used the opportunity to test the waters, pulling his hips back slightly and pushing his cock back in with a shallow thrust. Quatre pulled away from the kiss with a heady moan, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

He started slowly, easing the initial discomfort with tender kisses and praise whispered against Quatre’s neck. His hips worked in short, gentle rolls, giving his lover time to adjust to the penetration. The desperate need to fuck in hard and fast made his muscles coil like springs under pressure, but he managed to hold it back with his last tenuous threads of self control.

Since Quatre was unable to touch with his hands, he used his own hips to initiate contact, pushing them down when Trowa reentered to deepen the penetration. His voice was raspy and high pitched, spurring the brunette on with broken moans and mindless affirmations. Trowa's restraint finally snapped and he bid it farewell in favor of allowing his basest instincts to take over and govern his movements.

He fucked in hard, bouncing Quatre back and forth across the bed with the sharp slap of flesh meeting flesh echoing around them. His conscious mind retreated like the ocean during low tide, making way for raw desire and untamed pleasure. The world shrunk down to the size of the room, down to the size of the bed, and then down to the rising peak of ecstasy he savagely sought inside the hot clutch of his love’s body.

Through the rush of static in his ears, he could faintly hear Quatre’s voice shouting his name. He dimly registered the splash of hot fluid on his belly, but most of his attention was focused on the rhythmic squeezing around his cock as the blond climaxed. Trowa was only seconds away himself and he drove himself in hard, chasing his orgasm with deep growls and powerful thrusts.

Quatre lay limp and wrecked beneath him, taking the rough pounding with only an occasional whimper when the tip of his lover’s cock struck his prostate head-on. His face and chest were flushed red and his hair, damp with sweat, was glued to his forehead in curly clumps.

He was undeniably stunning and as Trowa reached the pinnacle of rapture, only one word came to mind. A word that, in his humble opinion, was the most beautiful word ever spoken, perfect in every language.

_“Quatre...”_

 

*******

 

The booming base from the main floor drifted in through the still locked door, but this time, Trowa couldn't have cared less. Not with this naked, sweaty, exhausted, and incredibly gorgeous creature fused to his body like a Siamese twin. He smiled and stroked his thumb lovingly over the satiny smooth skin of Quatre’s back. "Whoever said dreams don't come true is full of shit."

“Can't argue with that. I’m not too heavy, am I?”

He looked down at the tousled blond head resting on his chest. Quatre’s leg was hooked around his and the fingers of his right hand toyed absently with his nipple. “Quat, you barely weigh anything.”

“Hey! I gained some weight.”

“So, you’re one hundred pounds instead of ninety now?”

Quatre pinched his nipple in reprimand. “One hundred thirty, thank you very much.”

“Soaking wet maybe. Anyway, no. You’re not too heavy. Even if you were too heavy, you still wouldn’t be too heavy.”

Quatre snorted. “That makes no sense.”

“Be nice. You can’t expect me to make sense after all that work I put into pleasuring you.”

“Aw,” Quatre crooned, kissing the smooth pec beneath his cheek. “Did you fuck away all your brain cells?”

Trowa laughed and tightened his arms around him. “I still have a few left, I think.”

“I hope so because I’m going to be expecting this at least once a month.”

“Once a month?! Baby, you’re going to have to pry me off you at least once a day.”

“Horndog.”

He gave the blond’s bare ass a sharp slap. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier. How are your wrists, by the way?”

Quatre lifted his hand and examined the chafed skin where the ribbon had rubbed him raw. “I’ll live. I have some ointment at home I can put on them and my ankles. No biggie.”

“Easy to say that now,” he pointed out grimly.

“Oh, Trowa. I know we were both freaked out at first, but...they would never put us in harm’s way. Seems silly now that I actually thought they were trying to hurt me.”

“Quat, they drugged you, kidnapped you, stripped you naked, and tied you to a strange bed in a strange room in the back of a rave club and they didn’t even bother to tell you why. Then they left you here alone to go find me. Anything could have happened to you. Of course you thought they were trying to hurt you. Who _wouldn’t_ think that?”

“I’m just glad they convinced you to come.”

“So am I. I wonder why they picked a rave though.”

“Probably because it’s one of the last places we’d expect to see each other. Face it, Trowa. We’re a couple of eighty year old men living in twenty two year old bodies. Our idea of a good time is sitting at home watching Matlock reruns.”

He grinned down at him. “Sounds like we’re a match made in Heaven.”

“Dirty old men,” Quatre added in an oddly somber tone that made Trowa laugh. “Seriously, though! Think about it. We just had our ‘first time’ in a sleazy and likely unsanitary room in the back of an abandoned warehouse that a bunch of squatters turned into a giant brothel - with god awful techno music, no less - in the middle of some swamp-infested wasteland where even the gators have no teeth and the gene pool is about as deep as a bedpan full of piss, while I was tied to a bed that’s had who knows how many sweaty, naked bodies writhing around on top of it.” He paused for a second and then said, “Jesus, I’m such a whore.”

Trowa scoffed and cupped the blond’s cheek. “You are not. Three hours ago, you were a virgin. Not exactly whore material. Besides, I thought you said there were no regrets.”

“Not with you! Oh, who am I kidding? I’m a filthy cockslut. My father is probably rolling in his grave. Or, he would be if he...well, if he even had...a grave. Whatever. He’s probably looking down at me from the hereafter with that sitcom dad expression of disapproval he'd perfected so well. I guess it's par for the course when you have thirty kids."

“Since when have you ever cared about your father’s approval?”

Quatre glanced up at him and then quickly looked away as if ashamed. “I did, once. Until I realized that I could do everything he wanted exactly the way he wanted it and he would still be disappointed. That man was impossible to please. I only remember him smiling once in my entire life and it was when I caught him looking at an old photo of my mother. He kept it hidden somewhere, but I could never find it. At the time, I didn’t even know who she was."

"I'm sorry, Quat."

"After I finally figured it out, I wanted to bring him back to life just so I could kill him myself. I’d never felt so betrayed. I deserved to know about my mother and he took that away from me. He lied to me. I hated him so much for that.”

Trowa held him tight and kissed the top of his head, wishing there was more he could do to ease Quatre’s pain. This was a side of him only he was privy to, this vulnerable part of himself that Quatre kept sealed behind an impenetrable fortress in the company of others. “Your father was a fool. Too blind to see what was right in front of his face.”

“Sometimes I like to pretend I was adopted,” Quatre said with a laugh. “It’s hard to believe he made me. We’re nothing alike.”

“He created you, Quat, but he did not _make_ you. You made yourself. The man you are today exists because of you. Your strength and compassion, your intelligence and charisma...wherever they came from biologically, you’re the one who shaped and perfected them. You, Quatre Raberba Winner, are a true work of art. Beautiful inside and out and I feel like the luckiest schmuck alive because out of all the handsome and successful men in the world that you could have had, you chose me. A lowly mechanic and circus freak with a dead man’s name.”

Quatre gave him a fierce look and Trowa's mouth immediately closed. He knew that look. They all did. It was the personification of stubborn tenacity and the confident authority that could only come from respect that had been well-earned.  He'd seen that same look on Quatre's face when receiving orders on the battlefield. He'd seen that same look at the head of long boardroom tables and on the stone steps of WEI headquarters while surrounded by hundreds of flashing cameras and microphones aggressively shoved under the blond's nose. When Quatre had that look, you shut your pie hole and paid attention. That was just how it was.

“You listen to me. I don’t care who the ‘original’ Trowa Barton was. From what I’ve heard, he was a chip off the old block. As heartless and cruel as his old man. As far as I’m concerned there has only ever been one Trowa Barton and that's you. I don't understand how you can still think so little of yourself even though everyone who knows you is a better person for it.”

“You’ve taught me so much, Trowa. It was you who pulled me from the brink of madness. It was you who saved my soul. It’s always been you who looked out for me, guided me, and encouraged me to be myself. You let me in...and I knew how hard that was for you to do. There is nothing lowly about you, Trowa Barton. You deserve the world and if I have to, I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”

Touched to the point of tears, Trowa slipped his finger beneath the blond’s chin to tip his head up. “I don’t want the world, you silly little fool. I just want you. You’re all I need. You made my heart beat with life again. You’re my reason for waking up every morning. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, but...I love you so much, Quat. I love you so much, I can’t even find the words to describe it. All I can do is show you. I'm going to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.”

"You bet your sexy ass you will."

“You think my ass is sexy?"

"Of course I do! I think all of you is sexy." Quatre reached up and tapped his finger against Trowa's bottom lip. "You are the sexiest man I have ever met, Master Trowa. There is nothing _un_ -sexy about you."

He lifted his head and quirked a brow at the blond. " _Master_ Trowa?"

"Well, if you're going to be with me, you're going to have to get used to that title because that's what Rashid and the guys will call you and arguing with them is pointless so I wouldn't even bother."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"I am," Quatre said with a laugh. "I hated it at first, but I guess after a while, it kind of grew on me."

Trowa brushed the hair away from Quatre's forehead and smiled. "It's because they have so much respect for you. As do I."

"As long as you don't start calling me that."

"Maybe just in the bedroom sometimes," he said with a wink.

Quatre cackled and playfully smacked his chest. "You are a class act, you know that?"

"Oh, come on. Admit it, that would be so hot."

"Does that mean I get to tie _you_ up?"

"You can do whatever you want. I'm all yours."

"Always?"

"Forever and ever and ever. I'm not going anywhere, baby, and I'm never letting you get away either. You belong to me."

Quatre swooned. There was no other way to describe it. He would have made old-timey Hollywood starlets green with envy. From the fluttering of his lashes to the arch of his back, he swooned as Trowa took his lips in a searing kiss and passively surrendered to the plundering of his mouth. For him, it was about acceptance and agreement. His freely given consent that yes, he was Trowa's in every humanly possible way, always and forever. For Trowa, it was about his need to stake his claim and reassure himself that the blond was his, something he'd been too afraid to hope for before tonight. He kissed him until they were both breathless, until every lingering doubt in their minds had been chased away, leaving a clean slate behind where new memories would be created.

 _Their_ memories, built on a foundation of love. Each one serving as a fresh layer of mortar that would reinforce and protect this precious bond for a lifetime and beyond.

Quatre was panting slightly when Trowa pulled away with a final nip to his plush bottom lip and his eyes stung with tears as the blond whispered his own words of undying devotion against his neck. They spread through his blood stream like a healing salve, filling every empty cavern with warmth, passion, adoration, and faithfulness.

_This is family. This is home. This is belonging to something greater than myself and I can’t believe it’s happening to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a gift, but I swear I’ll do everything in my power to prove myself worthy of it._

A short while later, he was startled out of a light doze when his ears picked up the faint sound of a key sliding into a lock. Soldier's instincts still as sharp as every, he sprung into action, hoisting Quatre over his body and depositing him on the side of the bed that was further away from the door.

Quick as lightning, he was across the room just as the door swung open, nostrils flared and pupils dilated. A figure loomed at the threshold, illuminated from behind which cast shadows across his face, too dark for Trowa to see his features yet. Ready to throw down in the name of Quatre's honor, he reached out and clamped his fingers around the man’s throat, squeezing until he felt the fragile tendons beneath the skin start to bend under the pressure. 

Two more figures appeared behind the first and then hands were wrapping around his forearms to stop his attack. Through the adrenaline-fueled haze of fight or flight, recognition finally began to filter in.

“Tro, relax! It’s just us, man.”

He loosened his grip on the first guy’s neck, but didn’t release him right away. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill all three of you where you stand.”

“Whoa, wait a sec! We were just trying to -”

“Help? This is what you call helping? Drugging Quat and tying him up in some room in the back of a nightclub before leaving him here alone for who knows how long? He had no way to defend himself if someone…” He broke off and dropped his hand, furious, but unable to bring himself to finish that thought.

“Tro...listen, man. We took every precaution, okay? We didn’t give him anything illegal, I swear. And I locked the door from the outside. No one could get in.”

He glared balefully at Duo. “You made him think he was going to get attacked by a stranger.”

“But that never would have happened! He was in no danger of that!” Duo looked over Trowa’s shoulder to where Quatre was sitting on the bed with the sheets clutched over his lap. “Quat, you know we’d never do anything like that, right? We love you, you know that. We love you both. That’s why we -”

“Trowa.” Heero’s voice was slightly hoarse after having his larynx nearly crushed and Trowa felt a surge of vindication. _Serves you right,_ he thought. “Look, I know we probably didn’t go about this the right way -”

“ _Probably?!_ Do any of you know how to do anything like a normal person?”

“We honestly didn’t know what else to do! I'm not joking when I say you two are thicker than Wufei on Speed Dating Tuesday.”

“Hey! Go fuck yourself, Yuy.”

Trowa propped his hands on his hips, suddenly remembering with a flush that he was still naked as a jaybird which took the wind out of his sails just a little. “Did it ever occur to you three that maybe we were doing this at our own pace?”

“Your pace, or a snail’s pace?” Duo asked with a snort. “At the rate you guys were going, you’d have been seventy before one of you finally decided to admit you had feelings for the other.”

“That would have been our business, Duo,” Quatre chimed in as he flung the sheets off his lap and reached for his clothes.

“Actually, it kind of became our business when we were forced to listen to your man's pathetic blubbering for hours on end,” Wufei told him. His voice took on an uncharacteristic falsetto as he clasped his hands together and pressed them against his cheek. “‘Oh, Quatre would never love a guy like me!’ ‘Oh, Quatre’s too good for me! He deserves better, Fei! Boo hooo _ooooooo!’”_

Trowa glared at him. “Way to exaggerate.”

“He’s not exaggerating that much, Tro,” Duo pointed out before turning to Wufei. “Please don’t ever do that voice again, dude. That was a disturbing side of you I never hope to see again.”

Heero stepped further into the room, his gaze intent on Quatre who had just finished buttoning his shirt. “We truly are sorry for what we did to you, Quatre. It was not our intention to scare you and I hope you know we would never intentionally hurt you, or Trowa. This wasn’t something that we just came up with on the fly. Your safety was top priority every step of the way.”

They stared at the blond, quiet now, but tense with apprehension. Contrary to the general consensus, Quatre was the most unpredictable out of the five of them. It was rare of course. Nine times out of ten, he was sweeter than a candy shoppe brimming with confections, but when crossed, he could be downright demonic.

And the worst part was, you never knew when that part of him would emerge, or what he would do once it did. It was like counting down the seconds of a ticking bomb, praying that the guy with the needle nose pliers was about to snip the wire that would diffuse it instead of the one that would blow them all sky high.

“I suppose I can forgive you…this time,” Quatre finally said, moving to stand beside Trowa who linked their arms together and stared down at him with shameless adoration. “Besides, your psychotic little strategy did work so I can't be too angry.”

The ominous silence of the room was broken as the others sagged with relief. The verdict had been rendered; the guilty would live to see another day. Elated, Duo rushed forward and pulled Quatre into his arms with enough strength to make make Trowa worry about the state of his love's neck. “I’m so happy for you guys and I'm so glad you don't hate us either. You’re the best, Quat. I love you, man.”

Quatre patted his friend’s back, but the look in his eyes didn’t escape Trowa’s notice. They were forgiven, but this was not over. No siree. Not by a longshot. 

He met Quatre's gaze over Duo’s shoulder, read the message loud and clear, and resisted the urge to rub his hands together like a cartoon villain with a dastardly plan. Karma was coming and it would arrive in human form with blond hair and vengeance written across its baby blue eyes. It would be nothing short of cataclysmic and Trowa wouldn't miss it for the world.

_...Is it wrong that I'm getting turned on by this?_

**Author's Note:**

> Eshiq: Stud (Arabic)  
> Dragă: Sweetheart (Romanian)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
